


Back on Track

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Gen, Injury Recuperation, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 18:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10747662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: As his injured knee heals, Abe Takaya realizes he has a long way to go before he’s back in game shape. However, his teammates have no intention of letting him do it alone.





	Back on Track

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for @runcharityzine a while back. I've never written this fandom before, but there were no writers for it in the zine so I threw my hat in the ring. I hope you enjoy it!

Abe Takaya clutched the paper in his hand like a life preserver as he left the clinic, steps light and full of energy as he headed back to his mother’s car. Settling himself in the backseat, he caught a glimpse of Misae’s smile in the rear-view mirror as she fired up the vehicle and headed back to Nishiura High School.

“Did you get what you needed, Taka?” she asked as they pulled out onto the main street.

“Yeah,” Takaya answered, not bothering to look out the window while he changed into his practice clothes. “I’m allowed to start running and taking light contact, and if my last checkup goes well, I can do full practice in a couple of weeks.”

Misae’s smile spread even wider. “That’s great, sweetie. I’m sure Momoe-kantoku will be glad to have you back. And Mihashi-kun will be especially glad to see you.”

Takaya nodded because he already knew all of this, but the release form in his hand that gave him the official go-ahead to practice and train in a meaningful way made hearing them again a lot less cumbersome than usual. So he read the paper a few times to remind himself that he could finally catch and run and goof around with the guys here and there, but every time he did, his sense of anticipation would falter when he skimmed through the patient information at the top: Weight: 65.2kg.

Somehow, from the beginning of the year weigh-ins, he had managed to put on ten kilos while only growing a couple of centimeters. While they were all trying to bulk up a little according to Shiga-sensei’s diet regimen, seven of those kilos had been packed on while Takaya was laid up, eating his way through his knee’s recovery period. He wouldn’t say he was an expert by any means when it came to nutrition or fitness, but nobody could rightly say that packing on that much weight that quickly without exercise to match would take a toll on his fitness level as he headed back to practice.

So that just meant he would have to do something about it.

“Mom, can you pull over?” Takaya blurted as he slung the handles of his duffel onto his shoulders like backpack straps. “I’m going to run the rest of the way.”

“Are you sure?” Misae asked, even as she pulled off to the side of the road and put the car in park. “You haven’t run in a while, and it’s over four kilometers back to the school.”

The thought had crossed Takaya’s own mind, but even as he shook his head to dispel it, he started climbing out of the car. “I’ll be fine. I have the phone, so if I can’t make it, I can call Shiga-po and he can come get me.” He would do no such thing, even if it killed him, but the furrow of worry on his mother’s brow eased as Takaya stepped away from the car and gave her a little wave.

Taking a deep breath, he plowed ahead and started the long jog back to the school.

It didn’t take long for his thighs to burn from disuse and his lungs to follow suit. It wasn’t even the third kilometer before he had to slump onto a bus bench while his sandpaper throat struggled to pull in enough air. Instinctively, his hands slid down his thigh to inspect his knee for pain, but it wasn’t his recently mended injury that was in distress; it was every other part of him.

All the hours Takaya had logged in the gym lifting weights, doing crunches, and working his upper body had not been enough to ward off his flagging lower body strength, and it was with no small level of chagrin that he noted how his role as catcher relied on that very aspect of his fitness. It was what made him realize how far he still had to go to really rejoin his teammates, and also how he found the strength to scrape himself off the bench and resume the long trek to baseball practice so he could sweat some more.

The courthouse clock tower chimed the hour in the distance, reminding Takaya that he had been running for over a half hour and had barely cracked the third kilometer. Girls in insensible shoes in gym class could do better than that, he thought darkly as he plowed on to finish the last kilometer with everything he had, the sun blaring down from overhead only exacerbating his flagging energy and hammering heart.

Soon, the rooftop of the school came into view, but he knew the journey was just starting as he headed for the clubroom to dump off his bag. In his locker stall, he eyed his catching gear with longing, but even though he wanted to don it more than anything and catch a hundred pitches, he stopped. The was at the moment, he was no good to the team or to his awkward baby chicken of a pitcher, so it was with a heavy heart and even heavier footsteps that he opted to fill his water bottle and head out for more running instead.

“A-Abe-kun!” Mihashi chirped as he caught sight of Takaya heading for Shiga to turn in his doctor’s note, running all the way over from the mound while Momoe continued the knock without slowing for a moment. He didn’t miss the moment Mihashi noticed the lack of practice gear when his eyes grew wide and his chin started wobbling. “Are you okay, Abe-kun?” he gasped.

Takaya sighed and said, “Yeah. I can do light practice, but I’m really out of shape.” He turned to Shiga and said, “I’m gonna run for a while and do some cardio stuff in the weight room when I get a chance.”

Shiga grinned and clapped Takaya on the shoulder. “I was going to suggest that very thing, so well done on knowing your own body, Abe-kun.” He nudged Takaya toward Mihashi and added, “And I think someone is even happier to see you.”

Watching with a quirked brow of curiosity, Takaya observed as Mihashi shuffled his feet and stuttered out a string of syllables vaguely resembling words, eyes glued to the dirt beneath their feet. He forcibly remembered the patience he had worked to cultivate with Mihashi’s awkward-at-best communication skills, but when the itch of inactivity mounted in his feet, he snapped, “Just spit it out, man.”

“I’m glad you’re back!” Mihashi yelped as he bolted upright. “When can you catch my pitches?”

_So that’s what this is about,_ Takaya mused, and he pulled a smile. “It’ll be a week or so before I’ll be able to do full practice, but later when I can’t run anymore, I’ll ask Momokan if we can hit the bullpen, okay?”

Mihashi gave a trill of approval before he heeded Tajima’s hail to rejoin practice, and as he jogged by them and they nodded in greeting one by one, Takaya realized that all the guys out on that field were on his side — especially his ace. It gave him more energy than he thought possible as he hit the field and ran back and forth between the foul posts until his teammates started to corral themselves toward home plate. By the time he joined them, every part of Takaya’s body (except maybe his newly healed knee) was screaming in protest.

Clustered around the batter’s box, each one of his teammates slapped his shoulder in acknowledgement except for Mihashi, whose hand hovered midair as he contemplated the action before settling on a half-assed thumbs up. The sight made Takaya guffaw, and the resulting smirk lingered while Momoe slung an arm around his shoulder and gave him a not-nearly-light-enough punch to the ribs.

“As you can see, _somebody_ is almost ready to practice again, but we’re going to help him a little bit in order to get there.” Momoe gestured toward the road passing by the field and said, “Instead of our regular practice tomorrow, we’re going to do road work. Lots and _lots_ of road work.”

Takaya expected a few groans because this was reality and nobody actually liked road work, but there were solemn nods all around, with Hanai crossing his arms and bobbing his head in approval. However, it wasn’t until he noticed Mihashi nodding emphatically with a grin that Takaya realized that they were doing this for him.

“I can do road work on my own, Momokan,” he suggested, even though he recognized the set of Momoe’s jaw and knew she would never relent. Her fingers drummed on his shoulder as she waited for him to acknowledge the fact, and with a sigh, Takaya anted up a half-smile and said, “Thanks, guys.”

Across from him, Tajima grinned. “This means I can be clean-up again.” His fingers flexed on an imaginary bat as he took a few emphatic practice swings and watched an also-imaginary ball sail far into the distance. “Take that, Hanai!”

Hanai snorted. “In your dreams. I’m just gonna have to beef up and hit homers all day so I can be clean-up forever.”

As the squabbles continued, Takaya realized that, while he had been around them the entire time during his injury, he had missed being part of it. He was now a factor in the game equation again, and he would do whatever it took to make sure he stayed there.

 

 

Ten sets of footfalls, along with a set of bicycle wheels, rushed along the scalding hot pavement during the record high heat, and Takaya was sure he was dying. Yet the sounds of the rhythmic clapping and the barked syllables of their school name gave him energy he didn’t know he had as he called back one cue to the cheer’s cadence. They cycled through the pack one by one, soon landing Takaya at the front of the line.

He didn’t hesitate as he shouted, “One!”

“Two!” his teammates replied in kind.

“Three!”

“Four!”

“Ni!”

“Shi!”

“U!”

“Ra!

It was the same thing they’d been bellowing for hours, but the words still gave Takaya an extra boost in his step as he dropped to the back of the line to hand the chant over to Mihashi. It might have been the chanting, but as he looks in front of him and sees all of his teammates sweating right alongside him, Takaya mused that it might have a little do with the company, too.


End file.
